


Hal/Sinestro Ficlet Collection 2016

by DoreyG



Series: Ficlet Collections 2016 [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Alien Culture, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: comment_fic, Cultural Differences, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Green Lantern Vol 3: The End, Hair-pulling, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Korugarian language, Love, Love Confessions, Loyalty, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Marathon Sex, Minimal Preparation, Orgasm Denial, Polyamory, Post-Coital Cuddling, Pre-Canon, Restraints, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Sinestro's Intense Feelings, Unconventional Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5687929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of any Hal/Sinestro ficlets that I write that are under 500 words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You and I Were Fire

**Author's Note:**

> You possibly know the drill by now, BUT. This collection contains any fics under 500 words that I write in 2016 with Hal/Sinestro as the main pairing. Not all of these will be in the same universe, not all of these will be connected. More details will be in the individual chapter titles/notes.
> 
> Be prepared for Sinestro's intense feelings. Like, seriously, they're all over the place.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinestro refuses to let anybody else hurt Hal.

“You killed him,” he snaps as Sinestro presses him back against the wall, slams their bodies together in one long grind of heat, “he was on your side, and you just fucking _killed_ him.”

“Jordan,” Sinestro snaps, very firmly running nails up his arms, “shut up.”

“He was a yellow lantern, and you-!”

“Jordan!” Sinestro _snarls_ , and bites his neck so hard that he can already feel it start to bruise, “shut _up_. He was trying to kill you. And I know gratitude is something foreign to you, but I’d expect a little acknowledgement for saving your miserable life.”

“He was loyal to you,” he continues stubbornly, doesn’t allow himself to stutter into silence even as Sinestro scrapes sharp teeth over his jaw, “and – ah – what am I to you? I’m your worst fucking enemy, and you-“

“ _Care_ about you!”

There’s a long, stunned pause. He uses all of his body strength, and shoves back against Sinestro until he can see the man’s eyes – the darkness within them, the anger, the flickering spark of fear that is desperately trying to hide behind all the horrifying bluster of Thaal Sinestro in full flow.

“Sinestro...”

“You’re the only person in this universe that I give a damn about, Jordan,” Sinestro admits softly, and finally leans in to press their lips so savagely together, “and I would rip apart any number of worlds, to stop anybody but me laying a finger on you.”

And he doesn’t know what to say, but the ring helpfully strips away his uniform – leaving him bare – and he takes the opportunity to arch up with his body instead. Words, and actions and thoughts and burning hot feelings, can wait. For now there’s only the touch of Sinestro’s hands on his flesh, and that burning look in his eyes calling him ever on.


	2. Born Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal is still aware of right and wrong. Just.

"Hm," Sinestro says, and cocks a somewhat scornful eyebrow, "you are aware, of course, that you are making absolutely no sense?"

"Shut up," he huffs, and crosses his arms angrily over his chest, "I'm making _plenty_ of sense, it's not my fucking fault that you've got your head too far up your own ass to see it."

"What are you _saying_ , Jordan?"

"About you having your head up your own ass?" He smirks, somewhat cruelly, but that's just par for the course. Sinestro tends to bring out the asshole within him, "well, you see-"

"Not about _that_ ," Sinestro interrupts him with a yellow construct laid over his lips, rolls his eyes as he struggles angrily free, "honestly, Jordan, I've spent enough time around you to familiarize myself with all possible meanings of that. I meant the earlier statement, the one that made no sense. How did it go... 'There's wrong, and then there's _wrong_ , and then there's-'"

"This," he snaps, spitting the last traces of yellow from his lips, and watches Sinestro's aristocratic nod with something like rage coiling in his belly, "it's quite simple, you dick. There are wrong things, like having a crush on your high school teacher. And then there are _wrong_ things, like actually fucking your high school teacher. And then there's-"

"This," Sinestro says delicately, arching an eyebrow, "Which, if I am correctly grasping your meaning, is worse than either of those things combined."

"Well," he growls stubbornly. Infuriated by the delicacy, the arch of his eyebrow, the way he just _hovers_ there like he's faced all of this before and come out the victor every damn time, "can you really disagree with that? Can you really fucking _tell me_ that-?"

"We're not unhealthy? Insane? 'Messed up' in every single possible way?" Sinestro suddenly smirks, drifts closer. There's a wicked look in his eyes that he wants to fuck and strangle all at once, "of course not, Jordan, I've always prided myself on facing reality. But can _you_ really tell me that you don't enjoy it?"

He pauses for a second, hovering back a little despite himself.

"I thought not," and Sinestro's smirk is both the best and worst thing in the universe, all at once, "face it, Jordan. Wrong is _so_ much more satisfying than right."


	3. And Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinestro says goodbye.
> 
> [A/N: Takes place towards the end of NU52 Green Lantern vol 3: the End. Doesn't really deal with canon beyond that.]

"I'll use Parallax's power to take me far from here, and then release him. You'll never see me again," he says softly. And is surprised, even after all this time, to see Hal's eyes fill with pain, "but before I go... Do you remember what you asked me once?"

"I-" Hal's voice breaks, he looks down briefly. For the first time in years, he finds that the sight of the man in pain aches within him, "were we ever really friends?"

"That's the tragedy of all this, Jordan," he sighs, still softly, and reaches out - traces Hal's cheek, the edge of his lip, "Hal. We were always slightly more than that, weren't we?"

Hal stares at him for a second, eyes still wide with pain. He half smiles, continues tracing Hal's jawline with one hand.

He's not sure who kisses who first, but in the grand scheme of things it doesn't really matter. Hal's lips are just as wet as he always thought they would be, his tongue just as active. He kisses like a hurricane, throwing all of his fury and hope and _will_ out into the universe like he fears it'll burn out at any moment.

It's... Beautiful.

It hurts so much that it feels like he's coming back to life.

He draws back eventually, ignores the confusion of the rest of the universe to aim a wry smile at Hal's face. The man's eyes remain closed for a long moment, dark eyelashes against his cheeks, and then suddenly shoot open - stare at him like he's the water and Hal's a lost soul that's been crawling through the desert for years and years.

"I've finally shut you up," he smiles softly, and presses his thumb over Hal's mouth one last time before he lets his hand drop back to his side, "and for my next miracle..."

'Sinestro,' Hal mouths, his heart in his eyes, and then starts in panic - desperately reaches out to grab his arm, "Thaal, _please_ -"

If they only had more time.

But, alas, they have nothing of the sort. And, before Hal can make even the slightest contact, he's away - carried off into the universe, unable to look back even once.


	4. Eat You Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've never been monogamous, but Sinestro still doesn't like other people touching his things.

“That,” he starts breathlessly, and shudders as Sinestro pulls out of him and stretches out alongside like an extraordinarily pink cat, “that was- Fucking _Hell_.”

“Hm,” Sinestro says, and leans over to scrape teeth over his shoulder, “you enjoyed it, then?”

“ _Enjoyed_ it?” he shudders at the scrape of teeth, bends his head down to demand a breathless kiss, “Fuck, it was _amazing_. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get dressed tomorrow, let alone _go_ anywhere.”

“Oddly enough, that fits my plans,” Sinestro purrs, and allows the kiss. Only digs his claws in, as ever, _after_ they’ve parted, “tell me, has your flame on earth ever treated you so well?”

He pauses, blinks, looks into Sinestro’s ever so dark eyes... “you know about him, huh?”

“I can _smell_ him on you,” Sinestro says. And he’s trying to sound casual, he really is, but there’s a certain simmering rage in his eyes that just _screams_ of danger, “old leather, fresh blood. The dark knight, Jordan? You really _do_ have a type, don’t you?”

“I-“ he growls, and reluctantly levers himself up to his elbows as Sinestro continues to watch him, “look. We never said that this was _exclusive_ , alright?”

“I know,” Sinestro says, lightly enough that it just has to be a cover for murderous rage, and traces sharp nails up his arm, “which is why I’m not going to _destroy_ him, I’m just going to fuck _you_ until you can’t remember his name.”

“Odd,” he grumbles, as Sinestro drags him steadily down, “that’s pretty much what _he_ said.”


	5. Rough Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal gets hurt, and Sinestro takes care of him.

“I- _ow_ ,” he winces, turns painfully on his side. His lungs feel like they’re on fire, and his back feels like a cheese grater has been run over it several times. He can’t exactly remember what happened, but apparently it was painful enough to scar, “seriously, motherfucking _shit_ does that hurt.”

“Jordan,” a low, familiar voice says by his ear. And then hand are suddenly on him, holding him down before he can wriggle further, “hold still, before you do your idiotic self any further damage.”

He’s stubborn, of fucking course, so he doesn’t really listen. Continues wriggling, continues shoving up against his sudden captor, until a savage sigh is issued and he’s pressed even further into the bed he’s lying on.

...He knows that sigh. Knows that strength too, from the occasions he’s goaded his way into bring fucked up against a wall. He’s just not quite sure how to process it, “Sinestro?”

“You almost died,” Sinestro snaps over him, and only lets up the pressure a little when he goes confusedly limp, “horribly, might I add. I didn’t go through the effort of saving you just for you to pull out your stitches and start all over again.”

A long pause, as he tries to take that all in. Sinestro still fails to let go “...Black Hand.”

“Tried to kill you, yes. Almost succeeded in killing you, _yes_.”

“But you saved me,” he says wonderingly, and slowly turns – as to avoid getting suffocated in any pillows – to look Sinestro in the eye, “you drove him off, and you saved me, and you brought me here, and you watched over me until I woke up again. Even now, you’re trying to stop me from doing any further damage to myself.”

Sinestro meets his gaze, ever so stubbornly. Seems to be holding his breath, as if he’s somehow... Nervous.

“Why?” He whispers. And perhaps it’s the concussion that he’s apparently received, but he swears that he’s never been so confused in his life, “Sinestro... You think that I’m an idiot, you think that we’re enemies, you fucking _hate_ me.”

“Hm,” Sinestro says, and slowly lifts one of his hands – presses it warmly against the side of his face, almost like a caress, “maybe something close. I _own_ you, Jordan, and I don’t like other people touching my things. Now, are you going to stay still and let me call the doctor or am I going to have to restrain you again?”


	6. Hard to Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal makes Sinestro doubt his stamina.

“Harder,” Hal says needily into his ear, heels digging grooves into his back, “faster. Come on, Sinestro, come _on_.”

This is the third time he’s fucked Hal today, and to his shame it’s starting to become obvious. Sweat is running down his back, his arms are starting to shake and his breath is coming in short grunts. He used to think, given a decent amount of time and an enthusiastic partner, that he could lock down and go on forever. One week straight with Jordan and he’s starting to doubt that.

“ _Sinestro_ ,” Hal whines a few thrusts later, arching up into the pinch of his hands on his hips, “Sin, I _Said_ -“

“Do... Do not call me that,” he grunts, resists the urge to press his forehead against Hal’s collarbone and lose himself in sweet flesh, “you cannot be _human_.”

“O-oh?” Hal laughs shakily, and _gasps_ so prettily when he hits some sweet spot within, “ _Fuck_ , what am I then?”

“Some monkey,” he rasps, and hits the same spot again just to prove a point. Oh, and to watch Hal’s eyes helplessly roll back in his head, “or- a robot. Designed to- designed to- _by the fucking universe how you feel inside_.”

“no –nnnnnnngh – no idea what you just said,” Hal laughs at the slip into his own tongue, arches up to briefly slam their lips together, “but – and I hate to tell you this – I’m neither of those things. “

“Then-“ he snarls. Bites at Hal’s lip, his jaw, the desperate arch of his neck. Tastes his flesh, the sweet salt of his sweat, “then what the _fuck_ are you?”

“On earth,” Hall says smugly, and takes his bites. Even arches up into them, reacts with that same eager heat that has drawn him in again and again, “they call me a power bottom. And you are motherfucking _blessed_ to have me.”

And Hal squeezes, muscles contracting so tightly around him. And he comes, so sudden and hard that all he can hear in the aftermath is the echo of his scream.


	7. Fractured Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal knows that there's still good inside Sinestro. A pity that Sinestro isn't so sure.

“You still have good in you.”

“Jordan...”

“No,” Hal says stubbornly, glares at him with that pig headed stubbornness that makes him hate and lo- tolerate the man all at once, “shut the fuck up. You’re a dick and a psycho and have done horrible things, but there’s still good somewhere inside you. I _know_ it.”

“Jordan-“

“Sinestro-“

“Jordan!” He snaps, grabs the man’s arms in an iron grip and _forces_ him to look him right in the eye, “stop being foolish. I have chosen my path, I have walked far along it, I have made peace with that. I will never be your idea of good again and you should _accept_ that.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Hal hisses, and yanks violently free, “I know you, Sinestro, and I _know_ what lurks in your heart no matter how hard you try to deny it. You try to pretend like you’re the terrifying big bad, like this is the only path that you see, but it _isn’t_. Given a chance you could be good again. Given a chance you could be great again and I am not giving up on that no matter how hard you fucking snarl at me.”

“Why not?” He spits. And is suddenly surprised to find his hands shaking, a disgusting mixture of rage and fear coiling potently in his gut, “whyever not, Jordan, you’ve given up on everything else that matters to you in life!”

“Because I lov-!”

He darts forward at the last moment, hastily presses his mouth over Hal’s before he says something that neither of them can take back. It might be too late anyway. He bites at Hal’s lips, and he can feel a longing so deep and absolute that the universe could be burnt to ashes at just the touch of it.

“...Because,” Hal finishes wearily the moment they part. His lips bruised, his heart so absolutely in his eyes that he half feels like weeping at it, “you’re the only thing I’ve never given up on, Sinestro. And I’m not about to start now.”

The only thing he can do is smile, bitterly. And lean in to kiss him again.


	8. Theme Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal sometimes tries to assert himself. Sinestro finds this _adorable_.

“You think you’re so powerful,” Hal says smugly, “but, guess what, I’ve seen you naked and so I _know_ -“

“That I’m actually so powerful?” he finishes smoothly, and drives Hal up the wall with one slow thrust – watches the man’s eyelashes flutter, hears the groan spill out of his mouth with something that feels an awful lot like smugness, “that, when I talk of such things, I’m only speaking the truth?”

“Ngh,” Hal says intelligently, then clenches around him in some pathetic attempt at revenge, “listen, you bastard, just because you can literally pick me up-“

“And fuck you to the point of speechlessness,” he says sweetly, doesn’t let Hal see how much his petty little actions are affecting him, “don’t forget that, Jordan, it’s a rather pertinent detail.”

“-Doesn’t mean that you’re any better than anybody else!”

“...Oh, _Jordan_ ,” he purrs delightedly, and rocks back as far as he can – only starts fucking Hal again when he feels the man start to relax, start to let his guard down just as he always foolishly does, “I am better than everybody else, you really haven’t been paying any attention.”

Jordan comes screaming, clenching helplessly around him, so he really can’t mind too much.


	9. Irresistible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal is a distracting brat on a frequent basis.

"Jordan," he snarls through gritted teeth, "I'm _busy_."

"No you're not," Jordan purrs, and actually jumps up on the desk - papers scattering everywhere as he swings his legs and grins his most obnoxious smile, "or, at least, if you are it can't be _that_ important."

"Jordan..."

"Planning to torture new recruits? Actually torturing new recruits? Planning to torture Kilowog, which by the way is a _terrible_ idea and you should cast it aside right now..." Hal only fives him a bright grin, swings his legs again. He's the first person that's never been daunted by him, and he's also the first person he doesn't _want_ to be, "boring shit, all of it."

" _Jordan_..."

"Or, at least, a lot more boring than _me_."

He pauses for a second, struggling with the undeniable truth of that statement. Sighs, and carefully disguises the twitch of his jaw as he leans back in his chair, "I hope you're aware that the Guardians would probably disagree."

"I hope you're aware," Hal answers, his eyes shining with triumph, "that they're _wrong_."

"Perhaps," he sighs, and reaches out - drags Hal, every mischievously distracting inch of him, off the table and into his lap, "I swear, Jordan, one of these days you're going to get me kicked out of the corps with your antics. And then I will never forgive you, for as long as I live."

"We can only hope," Hal huffs playfully, and leans ever so eagerly down into his mouth.


	10. Sweat Slick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinestro likes exerting control.

“ _Sinestro_...”

“Jordan.”

“ _Please_...”

“ _No_.”

“ _God_ ,” he says on a sob, and slumps down the wall – right into Sinestro’s body, the warm muscle pinning him, “we’ve been here for hours, Sin, actual fucking _hours_.”

“I am well aware of that, _Jor_ ,” Sinestro smiles with sharp teeth, gives a long and rippling thrust that sends him gasping. The man is covered with sweat, to the point where his hair has gone even darker than it already was, his eyes are black and yet his voice _still_ doesn’t shake, “are you complaining?”

“Not- Not exact-“ his mind fuzzes white as Sinestro hits _that_ certain spot inside, and when he comes back to himself he finds that he’s trembling and gaping and _still_ so hard that it actually fucking hurts like a fist in the gut, “holy fucking god, can I _please_ just come already? Just once? Just to – ah! – take the _motherfucking_ edge off.”

“Hm,” Sinestro purrs, and only smiles again with his set of ever so sharp teeth, “you will come when I allow you to, Jordan, and no sooner.”


	11. Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinestro's favourite thing about Hal is his mouth, or so he says.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sinestro hisses in Korugarian, he knows because he’s always been fond of learning the swear words first, and yanks him up by the hair, “do you know my favourite thing about you, Jordan?”

“...My charming personality?” He guesses, shifts a touch uncomfortably. In this, as in all things, Sinestro is hardly gentle – there’s a yanking at his roots, and his eyes prickle at it, “my skill with words? My sunny temperament that brings light and joy to your life?”

“No,” Sinestro says flatly, tightens that hand in his hair, “it’s your _mouth_.”

“My mouth?” He asks, and barely holds back on a wince. He’s not a baby when it comes to pain, but Sinestro always seems to be finding ways to twist that dagger just a little bit deeper, “that’s technically linked to my skill with words, you-“

“Your _mouth_ ,” Sinestro interrupts with relish, and actually lifts up a hand – traces his lips with a care that he never expected, and that kind of stuns him as a result, “I never thought that a mouth could be pretty before I met you, Jordan, but here we are. Your mouth is a monument, a beacon, a work of genius. Your mouth could drive a man to believe in gods, to worship at an alter like a common fool. Your mouth... Is the most perfect work in the universe. And sometimes, just sometimes, I think I am blessed to be favoured by it.”

“...Uh,” he says, and is suddenly surprised to find all the pain no longer important. For how could it be, next to that look in Sinestro’s eyes? “Thaal-?”

“Jordan,” it’s always surprising, how quickly Sinestro’s face can close up. The hand in his hair tightens sharply, and suddenly his head is being shoved quickly back down like the moment of tenderness never even happened, “get on with it. It’s not like we have all day.”

He sighs, low and slightly sad, but willingly opens his mouth again.


	12. Without a Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal ponders happiness.

They ask him when he’s been the happiest, and look at him like they think they already know the answer. Hal Jordan is hardly a subtle man, after all. He must’ve been at his happiest when flying in a jet, with only the clouds for company. Or mastering the ring, creating planes and giant fists out of green energy. Or pursuing a doubtlessly female conquest, burying himself in slick heat and plush breasts and wholly enthusiastic moans.

But all of those, while close, aren’t exactly true.

Flying in a jet is great, with only the roar of the engine and the lure of the blue sky to distract him, but it doesn’t quite compare to how he feels when Sinestro shoves him back against the wall. Hisses in his ear, slides in between his thighs and savages his neck with a care that hasn’t once failed to bring a prickle to his eyes.

And while mastering the ring was wonderful, a rush of achievement that he’d never quite experienced before, it’s small fry in the face of the fierce joy in his gut when Sinestro forces him to his knees. Runs forceful fingers through his hair like he’s trying to tear it out at the root, grips the back of his neck so hard that he swears he can feel vivid bruises blossoming to life and fucks his mouth so hard that his vision swims and blurs.

And while pursuing a conquest is the biggest thrill imaginable, tumbling a willing woman _or_ man into his bed and making them scream, it’s nothing at all compared to the strange buzz in his chest when Sinestro deigns to strip him naked. Pushes him down upon the nearest surface with a cruel and wanting look in his eyes, thrusts into him with the minimum of preparation so he can feel every little shift vividly, takes him so hard and for so long that there are trails of tears down his cheeks by the time they’re done.

Maybe Hal Jordan is more subtle than they all give him credit for.


	13. Grooving Up Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal gets a tattoo that produces unexpected side-effects, Sinestro curses the remnants of his morals as a result.

“This,” he says, a touch pointedly, “is entirely your own fault, I hope you’re aware.”

“Yeah,” Hal agrees cheerfully, and yanks at his restraints so hard that his skin blanches around them – pulls tight in a way that’s inevitably going to leave bruises in the morning, “totally. Can I fuck you yet, or do you want to go first?”

“I told you,” he continues wearily, and carefully crosses his legs. For the first time in a while (which is a lie, _but_ ) he’s glad that he’s known Hal Jordan for so long – he’s built up some resistance, to the way the man looks when he wants something, “not to get a tattoo from a Corellian, that they were more trouble than they were worth, but did you listen?”

“In my defence,” Hal offers brightly, and yanks at his restraints again, “it was very hard to listen when you’re looking so sexy and stern. Why don’t you come over here and let me-?”

“ _No_ ,” he snaps savagely, and crosses his legs even tighter. Because he may have some resistance to Hal Jordan and his tricks, but there’s no need to tempt fate, “you didn’t, and now you’re high on the psychotropic drugs they put in the ink and you only have yourself to blame.”

“I know!” Hal admits eagerly. Settles back against the bed for only a moment, before determinedly trying to twist his wrists free, “I’m sorry, I accept that this is entirely my fault. Let me make it up to you!”

“Jordan-“

“With a blowjob,” Hal purrs, and offers him the filthiest leer that he’s ever experienced. Which is quite a feat, considering how long they’ve known each other, but one so undeniable that it takes all that he has to resist it, “or a handjob, if you prefer. Or maybe I’ll just spread my thighs, open wide and let you-“

“ _Jordan_ ,” he yells, and is somehow unsurprised to find his hands fisting on the arms of his chair. Hal Jordan has always had that effect on him, no matter what state he’s in, “stop this.”

“Why?” Hal whines, and tries his most brattish pout. The one that he’s always mocked, but has secretly lusted over for all these years, “I’m not asking for much. All I want is for you to come over here and _forgive_ me. What will that take, _Thaal_? My cock on a platter?”

“You being sober,” he says, quite simply. And, quite suddenly, smirks – as the thought of the aftermath of this occurs to him in vivid detail, “and when you are sober, Jordan, I am going to take great pleasure in reminding you of how eagerly you begged for my touch. And how desperate you were, for my attention and my attention only.”

Hal pouts at him afresh, but with that warm thought in his head it’s easy enough to ignore it. He sits smugly back in his chair, and begins counting the minutes down.


	14. Love Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinestro suddenly realizes his feelings, and somehow reacts better than expected.

He’s pretty sure that you’re supposed to realize that you’re in love dramatically, in the middle of a battle or at the end of the universe. But, as ever, real life isn’t quite like that. Love is patient, love is quiet, love tends to sneak up on you when you’re not looking and suddenly you don’t ever know how you lived without it.

Love sneaks up on him when they’re on a quiet alien planet in the middle of nowhere. It’s winter in the southern hemisphere, so their breath comes out in little puffs. Hal is sleepy across the table from him, almost falling asleep into his bowl of this planet’s equivalent of cereal, and... Suddenly it hits him. Every look exchanged between them, every time Hal has laughed or he’s smirked, every time Hal has crawled into his bed at night or he’s pinned Hal to a wall mid-mission or they’ve found each other over and over again.

_Fuck_.

“Sinestro?” Hal asks, peering at him dazedly. He won’t wake up properly for another hour, he’s safe from discovery, but he can’t exactly appreciate that because he knows Hal well enough to know exactly when he’ll come to terms with the morning and never even realised it, “you look... Weird.”

Fuck.

“You alright?”

With hindsight, it’s depressingly obvious.

“You’re an idiot, Jordan,” he says, brusquely, and rises violently from the table. Hal’s eyes widen a little at the rattle of the plates, but he still doesn’t have enough caffeine in him to actually move and he can’t _believe_ that he knows that, “I’m going to patrol the border. Try not to drown in your breakfast before I get back.”

“...Hey-!”

But he’s already leapt into the air, and allowed the ring to carry him away. This requires far, far more thought. And, as he’s suddenly realized with a burst of surprising warmth in his gut, he can hardly manage that around Hal Jordan.


	15. My Light Thou Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinestro does care, but can only find the words in Korugarian.

“ _I love you_ ,” he says in Korugarian, and watches as Hal tilts his head back and groans obliviously. Unaware of what he’s saying, uncaring of anything but their bodies twining together.

“ _You are the most beautiful creature I have ever encountered_ ,” he confesses, and continues thrusting. Adopts an expression to suggest that he’s spitting the vilest of insults, just in case Hal decides to pay attention to anything other than writhing on the bed, “ _the most lovely thing I have ever seen, a jewel beyond compare_.”

Hal stills beneath him briefly, panting, and for a moment he occupies his mouth with kisses – tastes Hal’s lips roughly, nipping at them until Hal jerks against him and he gets the slightest tang of blood, “ _it is a miracle that your tongue has not inspired poetry_.”

“ _But, then, it is a miracle that all of you has not inspired poetry_ ,” he continues thoughtfully, summons a snarl as Hal hooks his ankles around his back and returns to thrusting, “ _I did not truly believe in perfection until I met you, my heart, but now I think that it is the only word capable of doing you justice. So flawed, so impossible, so utterly complete._ ”

“ _I do not think I could live in a universe without you_ ,” he admits, and closes his eyes in pretended irritation as Hal digs his heels in and allows his groans to turn into screams, “ _and I do not think, my light, that I would ever want to._ ”

It has always been thus, for as long as they’ve been together. Hal Jordan, he reflects not for the first time as the man eases underneath him, is far easier to talk to when he has no idea what’s going on.


	16. End of the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal refuses to give up on Sinestro.

"I don't know," he says, through gritted teeth, "why you keep _doing_ this."

"Doing what?" Hal asks innocently, hovering in midair like he belongs nowhere else. He's not a human, not a silly little thing bound to the ground - he's a being composed of air, a spirit sent to hinder his every movement, "I'm just hanging out, having a relaxing time. Really, it's _you_ who has the problem."

"Stop following me," he orders, glaring narrowly. Eventually deigns to raise himself, hover until he can properly look Hal in the eye, "stop making sarcastic comments, stop pretending that I'm the one with the problem, stop watching me with such concern. Just _stop_ , Jordan."

Hal stares at him innocently, smiles like he still has no idea what's wrong. To somebody who has seen underneath as many times as he has, it's _maddening_ , "I repeat-"

"No," he hisses, and narrowly resists the urge to lose his temper completely. To just let loose with the constructs, and cut the remains of his old life completely away, " _I_ repeat. Stop looking at me like everything can return to how it used to be, Jordan, because it _can't_. I'm considered a villain, you're considered a hero and no matter what used to be between us... No matter what you _thought_ used to be between us, it can't exist alongside what we are now. The sooner you accept that, the better."

A long pause. Some of the humour drops from Jordan's face, much of the mocking gaiety fades from his eyes. They stare at each other silently for a long few seconds, at an impasse.

Until- "no."

" _No_?" He asks incredulously, narrowly resisting the urge to blink like a fool, "Jordan, I'm not quite sure what you think I mean-"

"I know exactly what you mean," Hal interrupts him, and smiles his very cockiest grin - that old and shining one, that always made his heart skip a beat back before _everything_ got in the way, "and I'm saying no. You've done terrible things, you've betrayed everything I thought you stood for, but I'm still not giving up on you. No matter how far you go, no matter how much you pretend that it never meant anything I'll be here. And no amount of sulking or glowering or rage is ever going to change that."

He stares for a second, stunned.

...He fakes a huff, to cover the humiliating catch in his throat, and lowers himself back to the ground. Hesitates for only a second, before raising his chin and starting to walk again, "you're a fool, Jordan, and I'm starting to think you always will be."

"Sure sounds like me!" Hal chirps, cackles, follows him anyway. Like he's starting to believe he always will, right to the end of the line.


	17. Hole in the Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal gets injured, Sinestro worries about protecting him.

"You are an _idiot_ , Jordan."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He groans, staring miserably down at the hole in his arm, "because, if so, your bedside manner _really_ needs some work."

"I'm being serious," Sinestro scowls, predictably angry, "one day something is going to _properly_ take a chunk out of you-"

"This hole in my arm isn't proper?"

"-And I'm not going to be there to patch it up afterwards!" Sinestro snarls over his protest, shakes his head in a way that is angry and worried all at once, "you could _die_ if you keep taking these risks, Jordan, and nothing in the universe will be able to stop that."

"I'm going to die no matter how sensible I am, no matter how safe I play it and no matter how boring my life is," he retorts stubbornly, answering Sinestro's glare with one of his own, "why shouldn't I have some fun?"

"Jordan..."

"Besides," he continues, ridiculously stung by the whole lecture, " _you_ don't care whether I live or die, so why should I?"

Sinestro stares at him for a second, slightly stunned "...If you believe that, Jordan, then maybe you actually are an idiot after all."


	18. The Sake of Logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinestro reacts to the concept of cuddling.

"What _is_ this?" Sinestro asks, slightly muffled against his chest.

"It's... Called cuddling," he offers, and looks down incredulously. Is somewhat surprised, not to mention hella _amused_ , to find his kinda sorta _maybe_ boyfriend looking as unsettled as he's ever seen him, "seriously, it's not that big a thing. Didn't you have it on Korugar?"

"We most certainly did not," Sinestro hisses, the effect somewhat ruined by just how big his eyes have gone, "something so disgustingly _physical_..."

He stares flatly, allowing the fact of the wrecked bed to carry his point across.

"...And meaningless would have never been approved of," Sinestro takes the criticism on the chin, coughs a little and carries on as arrogantly as ever, "I mean, what is the _point_ of this? It's slightly hot, decidedly uncomfortable and seems to produce no desirable effect. It's foolish!"

"Hm," he says, and decides to keep his thoughts on the accuracy of that for later. Perhaps when he can ask Soranik about them, as yet another distraction from the 'so technically I'm your stepfather' conversation, "it helps create social cohesion? Or, you know, something along those lines. Something that sounds less sciency, I don't know."

"Social cohesion can be created in other ways," Sinestro huffs, and is thankfully a little too het up to pick up on his brief slip out of the world of deliberate stupidity, " _has_ been created in other ways. Other ways that are far less stupid and-!"

"Sin," he says, using the pet name that he knows Sinestro _hates_ as a sort of distraction. Because he's a dick, sure. But despite what _certain people_ , namely Sinestro and Bruce, would tell you he's not actually trying to be a lot of the time, "calm down. If you want this to stop, just say the word and it'll _stop_. It's as simple as that."

A long pause. In which he half expects Sinestro to fling himself off the bed, or fling him off the bed, or go crashing out through the ceiling in a blaze of yellow-

Sinestro gives a low cough, burrows into his collarbone a little. His teeth are slightly sharp, the heat that his skin gives off is slightly hotter than human temperature and wonderful because of it, "I... Would rather have you explain this to me further, Jordan."

"Oh," he says. Exhales in shock, really.

"...For the sake of logic, you understand. And _nothing_ more than that."

"Oh," he repeats, still stunned. And then, ever so slowly, starts to tighten his arms. Still stunned, after all this time, that he's allowed to have this, "well, if it's for the sake of _logic_. The practice of cuddling started when the very earliest ancestors of the humans, those badger things that kept popping up in Walking with Dinosaurs, decided..."

And Sinestro remains warm on his chest. A little calmer, relaxing more by the moment in his arms.


End file.
